


Honeymoon

by Maggiemaye



Series: Under the Mountain [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Family Drama, Implied Sexual Content, Romance, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What in the name of Mahal,” says an unamused, feminine voice, “am I looking at?”</p><p>Kili’s eyes snap open as he feels the room go frigid. It has been quite a long time since he has heard that voice, but he knows it like the back of his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They cannot speak for several moments, after. The sounds of night insects, hoot owls, and the river rushing into the mountain begin slowly to float back into Tauriel’s awareness. For the past several minutes her focus had narrowed solely to Kili, his heated body against hers, the revelation of his tongue in the crook of her elbow. She flushes now to recall how their gasps and pleas had disturbed the peace of the mountainside, how she had called his name to the stars over and over again. She’d felt so clumsy at first, moving against him in such an unfamiliar way. But Kili had whispered love into her ear and kissed away her self-consciousness, his mouth tender and careful on her skin.

Tauriel feels a stick digging into her shoulder; she moves to push it away as best she can without jostling her new husband lying atop her, framed by the points of her knees. Kili, for his part, cannot seem to stop shaking. They are nestled in a cocoon of soft blankets and body heat, but he trembles above her. His breath comes heavy as he rests his cheek upon her breast, overcome by their coupling. Tauriel gathers his bare form close to her own, strokes his back and feels the sweat in his hair. He takes in a shuddering breath at the movement of her hands and a tremor races through him. Tauriel is not much more composed herself, really. Sensations linger, gently ebbing, and she still feels quite starry-eyed.

It sinks in that she and Kili have actually wed; there is no more waiting to be done (although it isn’t as if they have waited long.) The Company had witnessed their vows earlier that evening, and they have just made love on the mountainside beneath the open sky. They are as closely joined as they can be—bound to one another for life, such as it is for a mortal creature.

He nuzzles her, placing a soft kiss upon the inner curve of her breast. Tauriel feels his heart quicken against her own ribs and she knows that she is lost, she is utterly lost for him.

Perhaps that should be frightening. Perhaps it might be, had it been any other than Kili. But he has a way of easing the tight knots in her soul, untangling the guarded wariness there and smoothing it into contentment. She has felt it since the night he’d spoken to her of the fire moon, looking up at her with those earnest eyes and spinning a tale of worlds she had craved to see. Something had begun that night, a gentle unfurling of the self she had kept crushed down for centuries. It had taken only a few heartbeats in his presence to see the trustworthy, faithful nature of this _Naugrim_ prince, and to know that the Mirkwood would never again be enough to satisfy her.

Kili finally raises his head to look down at her, shifting his arms to make a cradle for her shoulders. His face is soft in the shadows.

"Tauriel," he breathes. "That was...that was...I mean, was it...?"

She reaches up to brush his brown tangles behind his ear, thinking that she might not have been the only one to feel self-conscious.

"It was." She smiles at him reassuringly, and he leans down to kiss her yet again, slow and warm and open. Tauriel hums and hugs his waist tighter with her thighs. The strange shimmering heat from before is already building in her again, drawing her forward to curl against him.

“I would not have waited another day longer to be wed to you,” Kili whispers, his mouth roving over her cheek. _“Amralime."_

She will never tire of hearing that word.

"You do not regret foregoing the ceremony?"

"I never wanted a ceremony," he scoffs against her ear. The tickle of his beard teases her into a needy whimper. "I only wanted you. Besides, this way we don’t have the whole Company listening at our door."

She _laughs_ then, the sound bright and free against the dark sky. It is still strange, hearing herself make such a sound, but with Kili she does not even have to try. In a rush of new affection she leans up to taste the curve of his shoulder, and his jaw goes slack at the touch of her tongue there.

He winces a little as he adjusts to stretch more fully atop her, and Tauriel thinks his knees and elbows must be aching terribly. Perhaps it would have been better to seal their vows inside, on one of the luxurious beds in Erebor’s royal wing. But it is a tradition of wood elves to have the stars witness the congress between a bonded couple, and she had felt compelled to suggest it. Kili, bless him, had taken to the idea with more enthusiasm than she’d expected; he’d begun scouting out secluded places for their wedding night almost immediately after she’d mentioned it. And, to her exquisite relief, he had also preferred the idea of a more private witnessing of their vows. Tauriel would have gone along with an elaborate royal affair if Kili had truly wished it, but she had not relished the prospect. Among her people there is little public acknowledgment of marriage; if a couple wishes to bond they simply do so, with no witnesses needed.

Tauriel finds it fitting that their own vows had walked a line between the two customs, forming an entirely new tradition. However, in the end she supposes it matter very little. Regardless of how it occurred, she has ended the evening with her dwarf in her arms, warming each other in body and spirit alike.

* * *

 

There is no exotic locale for the newly wedded couple to nest in, only the rooms that will serve as their own quarters under the mountain. It is just as well, though, for Kili would not have appreciated any view outside their own chamber. The days after their wedding blur pleasantly together as they allow themselves to lose track of time. Falling asleep with his face pressed to Tauriel’s pale stomach, waking up to her “searching his trousers” with the single-mindedness he might have expected from a former captain of the guard…Kili thinks that he could die happy like this.

The last evening of their seclusion is a little melancholy. Tomorrow they will have to rejoin the burgeoning kingdom and resist the urge to be upon each other at every moment. Perhaps in preparation for this fate, the two of them have actually clothed themselves and spent most of the evening out of bed, like normal folk who have more than a few moments’ self-control.

The armchairs in their front room are wide enough, but quite low to the ground. Tauriel can sit comfortably in them if she does so sideways, draping her legs over the armrest and letting them dangle. Kili admires the view of her as he enters the room with a bottle of wine. She wears a soft gown the color of celery, the skirt bunched up at her knees. Her unbound hair hangs over the armrest at her back; she runs an absent hand through it as she stares into the fireplace.  

“If I can ever keep my hands away from you, my love, I will use them to build us taller chairs.” He stalks towards her, pressing the bottle into her hand as he kisses her soundly.

“A lost cause, then,” she murmurs. He can feel her grinning against the corner of his mouth. That grin widens as her elegant hand slips beneath his shirt to comb through the hair she finds there. Tauriel had been fascinated to learn that a dwarf’s hair extends not only down his chest, but around his rib cage to his back. Kili’s is thin and soft compared to others, but that doesn’t seem to matter so much when his wife runs reverent fingers through it.

With a teasing grin, Kili steps back just out of her reach. She makes a disappointed little sound and he has to laugh.

“Not until you come down here,” he says, seating himself on the floor. “That chair won’t fit the two of us.”   

Tauriel raises her eyebrows but slides down to the rug beside him, raising the bottle to her lips when she is settled. Kili crowds up against her and takes her hand, and they lean shoulder to shoulder against the chair she has vacated.  

“So.” He takes the bottle from her for a swig. “Tomorrow.”

“Yes.” She frowns a little. “I have not been new to a guard in four hundred years.”

“Dwalin loves you,” Kili says, “and you know it. He knows you’re the most fearsome, capable, accomplished, stunning…” His words dissolve into kisses down her neck and Tauriel laughs.

“You do make a sound argument,” she smirks, pushing him aside a bit so she can drink.

“And if anyone says a word out of line to you,” he says, offering a final kiss to her temple, “Dwalin will get them well sorted.”

“It seems I have many dwarven champions under this mountain.” She leans over to press her freckled nose to his cheek. “But none so fine as you.”

Kili smiles up at her and they sit quiet for a while, passing the wine, hands clasped together atop his thigh. He puts the bottle aside when he begins to get hazy, and his head drops to Tauriel’s shoulder before he is quite aware of it. He is on the edge of a doze when a sharp knock sounds at their front door.

“Visitors?” Tauriel asks.

“Must be Fili. Come in!” he calls, not bothering to open his eyes.

Tauriel chuckles at him, but the sound cuts off abruptly as the door creaks open, and she stiffens hard beside him.  

“What in the name of Mahal,” says an unamused, feminine voice, “am I looking at?”

Kili’s eyes snap open as he feels the room go frigid. It has been quite a long time since he has heard that voice, but he knows it like the back of his hand.

“Amad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still working on Peredhil, I promise, but I keep getting distracted by backstory :) Cassidy and Co. requested to see Dis coming home to find Kili and Tauriel together, and they really helped me find the inspiration to put this together. So thank you dears! I think you will enjoy the next chapter, especially ;)
> 
> Finishing and posting this chapter was my birthday present to myself, so I really hope you guys like it! Feel free to let me know what you think, as always!


	2. Chapter 2

Kili scrambles to his feet and Tauriel follows, crossing her arms over her middle. The gown she is wearing leaves her arms bare and her chest far more exposed than usual. She had never intended to appear before a stranger thus uncovered—but then again, she never would have expected a stranger to enter their nest in the first place.

This dwarrowdam is majesty itself, Tauriel has to admit. Her golden hair is coiled atop her head, showcasing artfully trimmed sideburns. The resemblance to Kili’s own features is clear; even if he hadn’t addressed her as his mother, Tauriel might have guessed it by the shape of her face and the deep brown of her eyes. She rivals Thranduil for sheer intimidation at this moment—though Tauriel does not think either party would appreciate the comparison. Her posture is unforgiving, her expression cold as she regards her son.

“Amad,” Kili says nervously, looking as though he would welcome death right at this moment.  “We weren’t expecting you for another week.”

“Yes, well, I wanted to surprise you and your brother.” She still has not glanced in Tauriel’s direction. “And it seems I’ve succeeded.”

Kili’s mouth flaps soundlessly. Tauriel might have laughed if the situation were not so stiflingly tense.

“Well,” she says, “introduce me to your companion, son.”

“Tauriel,” Kili says, clearing his throat, “this is my mother, Dis. And Amad...Tauriel is my wife.”

Fire flashes in the dwarrowdam’s eyes, and Kili takes an unconscious step backward. Tauriel briefly wonders if there is anything at all she could say to ease things, but decides that speaking on her part would likely fan the flame hotter. If she has learned anything at all from Thranduil, it is that no outsider will hold influence with a possessive parent.

_“Wife,”_ Dis repeats with deep distaste. “So Balin and Dwalin spoke true.”

Kili nods. “We had the ceremony just a few days ago. It was an elopement, Amad. Just us and the company.”

“Now I understand why they refused to tell me her name.”

“There was no good way to tell you,” he sighs. “We knew it would be a shock, so—“

“So you decided to wed in secret before I could try to stop you.”

Kili avoids his mother’s eyes. There isn’t much he can say to dispute her accusation, because there is more than a little truth in it. Kili had always maintained that it didn’t matter to him what his mother thought of their match. She might be surprised, he’d said, but she would see his happiness and be happy in turn.

He’d been so hopeful, but Tauriel is quickly losing faith in this outcome.

“Kili. _How_ could you do this? Do you really not grasp how foolish this is?” Dis sweeps a hand between the two of them but still speaks to her son as if Tauriel is not there. “You leave Ered Luin one time, and you throw your life away for one of these faithless tree-folk!”

Tauriel bristles. She cannot help it, but she holds her tongue solely for Kili’s sake. She does not wish to start her marriage by getting drawn into harsh words with her husband’s mother. No matter how tempting.

“Amad,” Kili warns. “Be careful.”

Dis sniffs, taking no heed of her son’s words. “I can only assume it was some outlandish elvish ritual. Not a valid marriage.”

“Fili witnessed it himself!” Kili bursts out, reacting to his mother’s tone. “Ori wrote up a contract and everything. The documents were signed and sealed. And yes, of course we used the customs of Tauriel’s people as well. A marriage doesn’t get any more valid than what we have.”

“Kili, please.” She wrinkles her nose. “You cannot be serious. Imagine your children.”

“It is a pleasure to do so. A joy.” His voice has turned dark.

Dis is unimpressed. The frown on her face has not budged one iota since the moment she’d walked in, and now Tauriel expects that her own expression mirrors it. She places a shielding hand over her stomach. Though no life yet resides there, she is still fierce on behalf of the little beings that have barely taken shape in her imagination. For the first time, the two females lock eyes.

“Make no mistake, elf,” says Dis, her voice hard as flint. “This is not your family, and this is not your place. You would do well to go back where you belong and release my son from your grasp.”

“Mother, stop.” Kili angles himself in front of Tauriel into a protective stance, a sweet but entirely unnecessary gesture. “You have no right to come into my home and speak this way to my wife. We have chosen each other, and there is nothing for you to say about it. Things are not as they were in Ered Luin.”

“I am simply advising you—“

“Your advice is unwelcome. More has happened in the last year than you can fathom. You cannot expect things to be the same as the day we left home.”

Dis takes a slow step forward. The tension in the room rises so much that Tauriel thinks she might choke on it.

“You think I cannot fathom war?” asks Dis softly. “Or danger, or grief? I am intimately familiar with each of these things, no thanks to your _wife’s_ folk.” She turns a snakelike gaze onto Tauriel. “Tell me, elf, how many years have you seen?”

It is a trap, of course, but there is no choice. “Six hundred and fourteen.”

“Smaug ravaged this mountain scarcely a century ago. Where were you then? Did you watch with your coward king as our mountain was burned, our people massacred?”

There is no answer that can satisfy her. Tauriel knows this, but it is still a mighty struggle to keep her mouth shut. Kili, however, is under no such constraints.

“If you want to place blame for what happened here, blame the dragon,” he says, his voice gaining strength with each word. “Blame Thranduil, even, or just the fact that evil runs rampant in this world and always will. But Tauriel deserves none of your blame, for there is no evil in her.”

He takes her hand again and smiles up at her. Tauriel feels a rush of warmth for him and she squeezes his hand, interlacing her fingers through his.

_“Gi hannon, meleth nin,”_ she whispers, and Kili beams. Dis watches the exchange with a scowl.

“I missed you, Amad, and I hoped that we could celebrate your homecoming.” Kili turns back to face his mother. “Maybe I was naïve to think so.”

“It seems you have been naïve about much more than that, if you think this elf is a match for you. I hope this _marriage_ is worth betraying your people for.”

Tauriel holds her breath until Dis has left and shut the door behind her.

* * *

 

“Not to be…impertinent, my lady, but it’s finished. There is no undoing it.”

Dwalin sounds entirely unconcerned and unapologetic about the whole affair. Dis had expected him to commiserate with her, to fuel her fire. She had thought the avalanche of emotion might lighten after a night’s sleep in the place of her birth, but she’d woken that morning with red in her vision and her stomach still in knots. Now she paces the floor of the council chamber, hands fisting in her hair, while Fili, Balin, and Dwalin look on.

“You could at least try to sound angry about this, Dwalin,” she grumbles. “For my benefit.”

Dwalin shrugs. “We’ve been watching them make cow eyes at each other for months. It’s pointless by now to be angry.”

“We wouldn’t even be here without Tauriel, you know,” says Fili. His crown hangs at a jaunty angle atop his head, as though he’s thrown it on as an afterthought. “She saved us from Orcs and spiders and all manner of things. And Kili almost died of a poisoned wound, but she healed him.”

“And now he thinks himself smitten, I suppose.” Bitterness rises into her voice.

“More than smitten, I daresay,” Balin puts in.

Dis groans. “Where is Thorin when we need him? He would not have stood for this.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Amad.” Fili’s voice is dry as a bone.

“Oh son. I didn’t mean…” She breaks off with a sigh. This has always been her downfall, saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time. It doesn’t help that she’s been blindsided once more by the treachery of elves, and that nothing is as she had expected.  

“I know you didn’t,” says Fili, ever forgiving.

“And you know that Thorin thought it best to leave the throne to his heir,” says Balin. “He felt it was right to give it up, considering the gold sickness.” The three dwarrow exchange a glance. “And honestly, with the relief of having Kili alive and well after Laketown, Thorin would have denied him nothing.”

Dis stops pacing and sits down. There is more about Kili, Thorin, and Laketown that Balin isn’t saying, and she will have to get to the bottom of it eventually. Terror flares in the pit of her stomach at the thought of her youngest at the brink of death. And yet her skin crawls at the thought of an _elf_ swooping in to save him.   

“But who gets _married_ behind their mother’s back?” she demands, getting back to the heart of the matter.

“He didn’t do it to hurt you, Amad. He really didn’t.”

“But you’ve seen how the lad is with her,” Balin continues. “They just couldn’t wait any longer.”

“I would not have desired to see such a spectacle anyway,” she huffs, flushing red. “My son wedded to an elf? I am glad he spared me having to see that. I wouldn’t have wanted to witness it.”

“You could’ve fooled me, my lady.” Balin’s look is entirely too knowing, and Dis turns away.

She thinks back to the night before, the fleeting second before the elf had looked up and noticed her presence. Kili had been slumbering against her shoulder, exposing his neck to her. Such trust would have been unthinkable for a rational dwarf—but a dwarf in love is hardly rational. And the look in the elf’s eyes as she’d gazed down at him, like she could scarcely believe her good fortune. Like he was so lovely it hurt. A smiling-through-tears sort of look, though her eyes had been dry. Dis knows the expression very well.

She shakes the image away.

“Our people have spent years suffering for the actions of Thranduil and his ilk,” she says, soft and pleading. “They left us to burn with the mountain. And now you all expect me to call one of them daughter?”

“Well, no one expects you to like it,” says Dwalin with another shrug. “But she’s a good sort. The lad could do worse.”

This, from Dwalin, is as much of a glowing endorsement as Dis has ever heard.

“Mahal,” she groans, covering her face. “It’s real, isn’t it?”

“’Fraid so.”

“I will have to look at this elf-witch every day. And watch her with my son.”

“Looks that way.”

“You may as well make peace now, Amad.” Fili sounds entirely too optimistic for her liking. “And if she can grow on Dwalin, she can grow on anyone, right?”

Dis sighs and finds a tiny smile to offer her son. He will make a fine king, gracious and just, with far more patience than most dwarves can boast. Certainly more than Dis herself. And besides, she admits to herself, Fili is right. She will have to choke down her pride long enough to speak with the elf sometime. It is simply a matter of when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dis has been giving me trouble ever since I first started writing her, so I'm in dire need of opinions! Comments are love :)
> 
> Sindarin:
> 
> Gi hannon, meleth nin="Thank you, my love"


	3. Chapter 3

They have been married only a week, and already Kili has grown accustomed to waking with Tauriel warm in bed beside him. So he is disoriented the first morning that he wakes alone, with the sun fighting its way in through the crack that serves as their window.

He vaguely remembers falling asleep curled up small in his wife’s arms. She’d been quiet as he had stewed aloud about his mother; quieter, perhaps, than he’d wanted her to be. He’s used to loud opinions and pushy advice—simply put, he’s used to dwarves. Tauriel, however, had simply petted his hair and nodded along with his worrying. Her touch had been a balm, as it always is, and eventually he had let it soothe him into dreams.

Upon rising, however, the feeling of dread returns in force. It has been two days since his mother’s arrival and everything has been out of rhythm since then. Her tirade in their chambers is a storm cloud hanging over his every thought. Kili knows that he will have to speak to her again soon, either that or explode from the tension of waiting.

Not for the first time, he wishes that he could just take Tauriel and run. But he has made promises to his folk; in the wake of Thorin’s absence, he cannot leave his brother alone under the mountain. Tauriel had readily agreed to stay regardless of the obstacles that might come. At the time it had humbled him, but now Kili thinks that neither of them had really anticipated what such obstacles might look like.

He gets dressed, a little embarrassed at having slept so late. At least his duty doesn’t begin until the afternoon, or Dwalin would have his hide. He putters around, scrounges up breakfast, moves his boots out of the bedroom doorway so Tauriel won’t trip on them later. But the silence of their empty quarters chafes at him before long, and he finds himself headed toward the armory. Tauriel had mentioned Dwalin summoning her there, to teach her about the finer points of dwarvish weaponry. Her daggers are sleek and perfectly deadly, an extension of her, but Kili could easily see her wielding a battle-axe as well. He grins to himself, filing the image away for further distraction later.

The armory door is ajar when he arrives, and the voices coming from inside give him pause.

“Just,” says Tauriel’s voice, louder than usual in her agitation, “the way she belittled him. It is just as well I was not armed when she came.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly what she was expecting to see on the lad’s arm.” Dwalin’s brogue is gruff as ever.

“But that does not give her leave to insult his intelligence! Or to imply that he is a traitor to his folk. How can she have so little faith in him?”

“Oh, and I suppose your own folk would be just fine with you bringing a dwarf home.”

“I have no family to please or disappoint,” she says shortly. “This is entirely unfamiliar. Which makes me even more useless to Kili now.”

“Lass. Listen. You just have to understand the way Dis is. She’s watched her family suffer and sicken and die, for many years. So she clings hard to what’s left.”

“I suppose, but Kili’s choices are his own, not hers. He isn’t a child.”

Dwalin’s belly laugh seems excessive. Kili thinks he should probably be offended.

“That’s true enough,” he reassures her once he calms down enough to speak. “For all he acts like naught but a dwarfling sometimes.”

He chuckles again and Kili makes an ugly face at the door. The indignity is almost enough for him to storm into the armory and protest Dwalin’s slander, but Tauriel’s sigh stops him.

“I don’t know the right things to say to him. Not when I am so angry.”

There is a pause.

“You…don’t _seem_ angry.”

“I am. I’m incensed.” Kili can almost picture Tauriel cocking her head to the side, fixing Dwalin with a perplexed look. “In the Mirkwood folk would be telling me to calm myself. What more do I need to say?”

“Around here ‘angry’ means yelling, threats, silent treatment, breaking things, nasty insults. The works.”

“Yes, I noticed.” There is a tiny bit of humor in her voice, and Dwalin chuckles along a bit.

“Have you spoken with the lad about any of this?”

“Surely he does not need my ill feelings to add to his own burden. I have tried not to influence him against his mother. And if I spoke about her now I would have nothing kind to say.” Her tone is wry and Kili feels a rush of regret. For the past few days all he’s been able to think about is his own confusion, his own hurt.

“Um.” Kili slips in through the crack in the door, not seeing much point in pretending he hasn’t heard their entire exchange. They both jump a bit; Tauriel fixes her eyes upon her immaculately polished boots, and Dwalin immediately readies himself to leave.

“Chin up, lass.” He raises his hand to hover near her arm. After a few moments of awkward hesitation, he claps her on the shoulder as a parting gesture. It is almost fatherly, and Tauriel smiles as he goes.

Kili immediately moves to clasp his arms around her waist. Her tunic is deep blue, the color of Erebor’s guards of old. It is strange to see her clad in anything other than the forest green he’d met her in, but she seems at ease in the new garb. And the color does set off her hair in a way that has him gaping up at her for a moment. She grins at his expression, placing a tender hand on the back of his neck.

He waits for her to bring up the conversation he’d walked in on, but she doesn’t. In fact, she seems determined to pretend that nothing is amiss. Kili decides that he can play this game too, for a little while.

“I woke up and you were gone,” he says quietly.

“Yes.” Tauriel gives him a wry smile. “A certain dwarvish foot in my ribs roused me quite early.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Mm-hm.” Her eyes take on a teasing glint. “You nearly knocked the breath from me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“I think it will bruise.”

“It would take more than that to bruise an elf, and we both know it.” He skims his hands down to playfully squeeze the backs of her leather-clad thighs. “You’re pouring it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

Tauriel just smiles.

“You could have shoved me over or something, you know,” he goes on with a little grin. “Kicked me in return.”

“I did not want to disturb you,” she admits, blushing a bit before her smile turns teasing again. “You looked very content with the bed to yourself.”

It is his turn to blush. “I’m a terrible bedmate. Fili always used to say so.”

Tauriel leans down very slowly toward him. Kili takes in a stuttering breath as her lips brush his ear.

“I have found you to be a most excellent bedmate, _a’maelamin_.”

All at once she winds her fingers in his hair and covers his mouth with her own, slowly devouring. Kili leans eagerly into her before he can think, considering himself successfully distracted as she strokes his bottom lip with her tongue. They kiss and taste and inhale until his hands itch for her skin. He wonders if it will always be like this, the slightest word from her sending him down a spiral of pure want. He presses his hips to her, making his desire plain, and he can’t help but be pleased with himself when she grips his hair more tightly and heats his mouth with a hungry sigh.

_“Kili.”_ She pushes on his shoulders, protesting even as she goes to nip her way up his jaw. “I’m on duty. Dwalin expects me to follow him soon.”

“You started it,” he mutters into her collarbone. Tauriel laughs softly as she nuzzles behind his ear, kissing him there twice before standing up straight again.

“As much as I would like to have you amongst all of this fine steel,” she says with a spark in her eye, “it will have to wait for another time.”

“You shouldn’t say these things, _amralime._ You heat my blood all over again.”

“Perhaps I want to keep you warm until tonight, when we are behind locked doors.”

She turns away with a wicked smile, perusing the array of weapons while Kili wills himself to calm. He watches her take one of the longer spears down from the wall, testing its heft. Her distance allows him to remember what he’d truly wanted to speak to her about.

“Tauriel.”

She stops what she’s doing and looks over at him. “Kili?”

“I’m sorry about this.”

She sighs, finally dropping the pretense. There is no doubt of what he is apologizing for. “Oh, Kili. There is no reason for you to be sorry.”

“No, there is. You have left everything you know to live underground with me. And you are met with anger and cruelty. I cannot believe I thought Amad would embrace this. It was foolish to think so, and now I’ve caused you pain.”

“Kili.” She leans the spear against the wall and reaches out for him again. “I am prepared to endure a little anger. We both knew that our allies would be few, no matter where we might go. And Thranduil has seen to it that I cannot be among my people. So I want to see you among yours.” Her hands tighten on his arms. “That is what upsets me about your mother’s words. She hurts you far more than she hurts me, my love.”

“She isn’t always like this, I swear. It’s just that she’s so protective, still. Even when she doesn’t need to be.”

She muses quietly on this as she finishes gathering her weaponry, equipping herself with a short throwing axe to accompany her beloved elvish daggers.

“Well,” she says, leaning down to kiss him once more, “she did raise you, my _Naugrim_ prince. That is one thing I can appreciate.”

* * *

 

The sight of the elf sitting at the dinner table with Thorin’s company is comical in a way that twists a knife into Dis’s chest. She is slouching as much as she possibly can in order to converse with Fili and Kili, who sit on either side of her. Across from her is Dwalin, who kindly passes her a roll rather than tossing it. She has charmed them all, it seems, or at least most of them. The sight leaves no doubt in Dis’s mind that the elf is here to stay, with a tight circle of protectors around her. Not that she is in any need of physical protection, from what Dis has heard. But the political and symbolic defense will only help her as the dwarrow return to the mountain in full.

The room instantly quiets when Dis enters, every head turning to look at her. They are expecting a fight, she knows, and she rolls her eyes. She is sorely tempted to give them the spectacle they want; there is much more she could say to this interloping elf. But she had seen in Kili’s eyes that he will have no other but his flame-haired savior. To come between them would drive him away forever. And Dis will not lose her son for the sake of her temper.

“What am I, an Orc?” she demands of the company at large. “Stop gawking and eat!”

Immediately the dwarves set to their meals again, talking amongst themselves even more loudly than before. Dis shakes her head, squares her shoulders and approaches the elf, who immediately sits up straight and eyes her cautiously. Dis resists the sudden temptation to turn back the way she came. She has never backed away from a challenge before, and this elf will not be the one to break her of that.

“I have been advised,” Dis begins, “that I owe you the lives of my sons.”

“Yes.” The elf’s voice is not humble or demure. She simply acknowledges the facts. Dis turns to Kili, who is looking up at her so hopefully and yet with such wariness.

“And it seems that I owe her your joy as well as your life, son.” She has to choke the words out, but she finds her smile for Kili coming quite naturally when she sees the relief flooding his face.  

“This doesn’t mean I am glad of your presence here, elf. I may accept it, but I do not approve.”

“I would never expect you to,” the elf replies, stone-faced. “But if you ever speak to me or Kili the way you did when you arrived, I will not hold my tongue again.”

Dis almost smiles.

“I would never expect you to.”

She reaches to squeeze her sons’ shoulders. Kili smiles and mouths a ‘thank you’ at her; the look on his face soothes a little of the sick feeling curling in her stomach. The elf nods at her and Dis makes herself return the gesture before turning to leave them alone. She finds a seat down the table between Balin and Oin, both of whom wisely refrain from bringing up what they’ve seen.

As she fills her plate and laughs with them, she allows her tightly coiled muscles to relax just the tiniest bit. She is home, they are all home, and her sons are safe. For tonight, Dis does not allow herself to think past this bounty. There may be an elf under the mountain, but there is no dragon fire. For tonight, this is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a little longer than I intended, but this interlude is done :) Thank you all so much for the wonderful response, especially all of you who take the time to comment. I have really enjoyed writing this and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it.
> 
> Peredhil is next on the list to be updated, hopefully in the next week! And just to clarify for anyone who might be wondering (I've had a couple people ask me this), all my stories are connected. So this is definitely a prequel to my series as well as Peredhil. I have an ungodly amount of headcanon to share, and it's slowly making its way out :) Thanks for sticking with me!


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